The Unknown Phone Call

At first glance, the evening appeared to be typical. While the clock inched closer to midnight, Emily was engrossed in a mystery book on her couch. Her tiny apartment was silent except for the gentle tapping of rain on the windows, which produced a calming rhythm. She was happy and at ease—that is, until her phone rang.

Emily looked at her watch. 11:45 PM? At this hour, who would be phoning her? Her heart skipped a beat as she hesitated for a little while. She picked up her phone slowly. There was an unidentified number on the screen.

With a hesitant voice, she replied. "Hi there!"

There was no response. Just a low, crackling static on the other end.

“Hello?”

She repeated, a little louder this time, thinking perhaps the connection was bad. But still, nothing. Emily was about to hang up when a faint voice whispered through the static, so quiet that it sent chills down her spine.

" Emily..."

She froze. Her grip tightened around the phone.

Who was this?

How did they know her name? She listened closely, hoping to catch more, but all she heard was the soft hum of static, the voice now completely gone.

Emily quickly ended the call, her hands trembling. She placed the phone on the coffee table, staring at it as though it might ring again. But it didn’t. For a moment, she sat in the quiet room, her heart still racing.

Was it just a prank? But how did they know her name?

Brushing it off, she returned to her book, trying to shake the uneasy feeling. Yet, the moment she turned the page, the phone rang again.

Her heart pounded. The same number flashed on the screen—unknown. She stared at it, her mind racing. Should she answer? After a long pause, curiosity won over. She picked up the phone, her voice shaky.

“Who is this?”

There was a long silence. Then, once again, the static—low, eerie. And then, the voice, barely audible, whispered: “Come closer…”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat. Closer? Closer to what? Her pulse quickened, fear creeping up her spine. She wanted to hang up, but something—some strange force—kept her on the line. The voice whispered again, this time more clearly: “It’s me… from the other side.”

Emily’s hand began to tremble. The other side? Her mind raced. Was this some kind of sick joke? Who was playing this cruel game?

“What do you want?” She whispered, her voice barely audible, the words slipping out almost unconsciously.

For a few seconds, the only response was static, and then the voice came again, softer now, almost pleading: “Don’t you remember? I called before…”

Before? Her heart sank. Memories she had buried deep began to resurface—the calls she used to get years ago. They had started after her mother passed away. The same static, the same voice. She had ignored them back then, convinced they were just coincidences. But now…?

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “Who are you?” She asked again, her voice barely steady.

The voice seemed to laugh, a soft, broken sound that sent shivers through her. “You know who I am, Emily. You’ve always known.”

Emily’s blood ran cold. She slammed the phone down, her heart racing wildly in her chest. The voice—it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be…

Suddenly, the phone rang again. The shrill sound echoed through the room, louder, more insistent this time. Emily’s hands shook as she picked up the phone, her breath quick and shallow.

The voice whispered, “Look behind you.”

Her heart nearly stopped. The room felt darker now, as if the air itself had thickened. Slowly, she turned her head, dread filling every part of her. But there was nothing. Just the quiet, empty room behind her.

She let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her—until she saw it. Her reflection in the window. Except… it wasn’t quite right. The reflection wasn’t following her movements. It stood still, staring back at her with a cold, knowing smile.

Who—or what—was that?

Emily dropped the phone, stumbling back as the reflection slowly lifted a hand and waved, the smile never leaving its face. The phone, still on the floor, buzzed one last time before falling silent, the call finally disconnected.

And in the eerie, suffocating silence, the reflection in the window lingered, watching.